


Ski-U-Mah

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Multi, Murder Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Professor Hannibal Lecter, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Protective Will Graham, Student Abigail Hobbs, Teacher Will Graham, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Drinking, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Abigail Hobbs hopes to begin a new,normallife at college, but when Dr. Lecter and his aide, Mr. Graham, take a particular interest in her well-being, she finds herself in an exceptionallyabnormalfamily.
Relationships: Abigail Hobbs/Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Will Graham/Abigail Hobbs, Will Graham/Abigail Hobbs/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue (Move In, Move On)

A leaf crunched victoriously under Abigail Hobbs’ thrifted suede boot. She stopped in front of the faded brick building, fully aware that this was now her home. It would have been surreal and frightening had she truly had a home before this, but after going from foster home to foster home, high school to high school, any anxiety or homesickness she might have had was replaced by a wonderfully overwhelming feeling of hope. A small smile touched her lips. 

Her dorm room was plain, like all dorm rooms, but Abigail didn’t even notice. Her foster rooms had all been similarly drab, but this little room on the second floor of Frontier Hall was the place where she would become her own woman, not just a lost little girl trying to navigate the perils of the world without—and despite—her parents’ influence. It would become the cocoon of her own grand metamorphosis. Any room that would house this development from cannibal daughter to independent scholar would be perfect, no matter how clinically white the walls were.

The room actually turned into a nice place to be after Abigail had the chance to decorate it. She hung a red blanket adorned with the school’s rodent mascot up on the wall next to her bed in a rare display of school spirit, acting as a sort of tapestry To offset all the white on the walls. The lamp she found at a thrift store was placed on her desk, warming up the room with its yellow light and giving the space a pleasing, zen feel. With her clothes in the closet, her plain grey and black sheets on her mattress, and a few potted plants placed in the windowsill, it was finally a living space that fit her. Abigail sat on her bed, satisfied. She could foresee the nights she’d spend her studying or hanging out with her academic peers. Maybe she would even find a boy to bring back, but those were thoughts for another time. Now, all she needed was a roommate

A roommate. It suddenly occurred to Abigail that she had decorated the entire half of her room, and her roommate still wasn’t there. _Marissa Schurr._ She’d gotten her assignment and her mate’s contact information in an email just a few months ago. They talked sporadically, mostly about who was going to bring a TV or a mini fridge or a futon, but Marissa seemed nice, if not a little standoffish at first. Abigail hoped deep down they would become good friends. After the total shitstorm that was her life _post-dad,_ it would be nice to have a sisterly presence to come home to. She would be able to talk about her troubles with Marissa, and Abigail would listen to her troubles with an open mind as well. 

She _was_ was psychology major, after all. 

Aside from working her _ass_ off in high school to get the scholarships and federal grants she did, the girl possessed an adept ability to manipulate others and navigate through social interactions with grace. She could read even the most closed-off people like an open book. Any attempt by psychiatrists to diagnose her after her dad’s incident was met with keen resistance from her side, for all she felt toward them was contempt. They would all, of course, give her the standard PTSD diagnosis and send her off to some counselor, but Abigail was somewhat arrogant in her abilities, and any counseling she went through was useless as well. She was an intelligent and calculated girl. Most people she encountered dismissed and underestimated her, but Abigail knew who she was, and she planned to sharpen her skills further through higher education. 

With Abigail lost in thought as she stared at the blank white wall above the empty bunk, Marissa shuffled in with her stuff and looked to the other girl. “Hey!” she greeted with a wide smile. “Abigail!”

Abigail started a bit and turned to see her roommate had arrived. She immediately hopped up from the bed, her own face alight with a crooked grin. “Hey! I was worried you forgot about welcome week or something,” she laughed awkwardly, looking around at the room with the other girl. “I already did my side. I was just...eager to make it feel homey, you know?”

Marissa threw her bags haphazardly onto her own bed and gave Abigail a nod. “Well, in my _professional_ opinion, it looks great so far. We can always...you know, change things around if we get bored,” she suggested passively.

Oh, yeah. Marissa was an interior design major.

Abigail nodded immediately. “Yeah! Yeah, totally...” she mumbled, fingers carding through the ends of her long brown hair. “Whenever…”

Marissa gave her a smile, and Abigail reciprocated it with an attempt at a casual, excited laugh. Her roommate was a strong personality after all, and this was going to be her metamorphosis, too. The passive suggestions, showing up late, tossing her stuff thoughtlessly around. Abigail would simply step down, become the quiet and reserved one to complement the other girl’s strong opinions and dominant nature. She would twist to fit the mold she was presented, as she had always done, but she had found that angle so quickly with Marissa...

It was almost subconscious at this point.


	2. Dr. Lecter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail attends her first day of class.

_Her body moved through the tall grass, dreamlike. Yes, this had to be a dream. She was smaller, younger, and this place was familiar to her in a different age. Her hands gripped her rifle, and the stock pressed comfortingly against her armpit. The forest clearing was bright and green with summer sunlight that shone on her freckled face and made her skin feel warm, but at the same time, her bare feet felt freezing in the damp dirt. It seemed every place the sun’s light didn’t touch was as cold as ice, and the moment she realized it, icy fingers began to spread from her feet up through her legs to tightly clutch her heart. Her insides were as freezing and cracking like ice, yet her skin burned and flaked off underneath the now fiery rays of the sun. She clutched her rifle for comfort, and just as the deafening sound of a gunshot went off, she made eye contact with the innocent, black-eyed doe across the clearing at which the barrel was aimed at._

Abigail woke with a start and found herself in her bed. She was sweating underneath her blankets, and her phone vibrated and played its alarm loudly underneath her wrist. She peeled it from her sticky skin with an annoyed groan and pressed the snooze, returning her head to her pillow and sighing. 

The first day of the rest of her life. 

Unlike her dream, the outside was dreary. The sky was gray and hung low, and misty rain clung to the trees and made them droop. Despite how melancholy the campus was, however, Abigail was filled with hope. She was going to meet her professors and academic peers today, and he had a brave face on, knowing it was inevitable she’d be recognized by some students and faculty. She would just have to show them how normal Abigail Hobbs was. She had grown and healed since her young teenage years, no longer the reclusive little spawn of a murderer, but an average, ambitious young woman.

Abigail ran her hand through her hair, flattening out the frizz that had formed in the rain, as she walked into the liberal arts building. She checked the time on her phone and saw that she was a bit early, but no matter. She could find the classroom and be able to choose a good seat (and maybe get on the professor’s good side) before the room became crowded with drowsy, rain-sodden freshmen. Going to the screenshot she’d taken of her schedule, she found the lecture room and glanced at the professor’s name. _Dr. Hannibal Lecter._ It was...certainly distinct. She could remember seeing his profile on the university website’s faculty page, but she couldn’t remember his face. All she could remember was that he was a relatively new professor here and had taught all over—in the States and elsewhere—before coming to Minnesota. His worldliness was slightly intimidating, yet it made him seem more credible to Abigail. It meant his understanding of psychology could stretch beyond eurocentric views, depending on where he’d been, and him not being from around Minnesota meant he likely wouldn’t know about her father. 

That was a gigantic advantage.

Abigail found the lecture hall and stopped outside the door to stuff her phone away and straighten herself out. Perhaps she was being a bit pathological about the whole thing, but she rationalized it by telling herself she was overcompensating for her name's reputation. With a deep breath, she stood up straight and strode into the room. There were a few students there already who had chosen their seats and were either staring at their phones or typing on their laptops, but of them seemed to notice her. Her eyes scanned the gallery for a few more moments before fixing on the man sitting at the desk up front. 

He was definitely younger than Abigail had imagined him, but she couldn’t deny that he was attractive. As she made her way to a spot up front near his desk, she kept her eyes on him, studying his face as he stayed bent over a laptop reading what looked like an email from the reflection of his oval glasses. He was classically handsome, with a head of thick, brown curls and a stubble that gave his look an air of effortlessness. 

As Abigail set her things down and took off her jacket to drape over the back of her chair, she gave him a kind smile and greeted him “Good morning” in a sweet voice. 

He briefly glanced up from his screen and gave her a good-natured “morning” in return, mouth twitching up in a smile. 

_Good enough,_ Abigail thought to herself before taking her seat.

Students trickled in here and there before a few minutes before the hour, when the hall filled pretty quickly. A girl, fully-dressed in a skirt and blouse, set her things beside Abigail and sat down, giving her a red-lipped smile as a greeting. 

“Hi,” Abigail greeted sweetly before smiling wider and looking over the other girl’s outfit. “I really envy your ability to look so good this early in the morning, by the way,” she said with a short laugh.

“Please,” the other responded, laughing too, “believe me, I would rather be in leggings and a sweatshirt.” She took out a sleek MacBook from her bag and opened it up. “I’m Margot, by the way.”

“Abigail,” she responded, processing the other girl’s mannerisms. She had already made a friend, and the day had just begun.

The professor stood from his desk suddenly and pointed a remote at the back of the room, turning on the projector, before going to the front and picking up a marker to begin writing on the whiteboard.

Abigail decided to talk to Margot more. She kept her eyes on the curly-haired figure as she told her joke. “I imagined someone with the name _Hannibal Lecter_ to look more...exotic.”

Margot glanced up at Abigail and saw her studying him, then let out a reserved little laugh. “That’s Mr. Graham. He’s Lecter’s TA.”

Abigail immediately felt like an idiot. “Oh.” 

“I’m close with the head counselor here, Dr. Bloom. She knows Lecter pretty well, so I’ve had a few passing interactions with him. Trust me, if you were expecting _exotic_ from Dr. Lecter, you will definitely not be disappointed.” 

Her cryptic words left Abigail thoroughly intimidated and full of anticipation. She opened up her thrifted Chromebook and logged in, readying a new document to take notes in and her Canvas page for the class. 

“Speak of the devil,” Margot remarked, and when Abigail looked up once more, she saw him. Lecter immediately went to Mr. Graham upon entering, giving his arm a brief touch as he greeted him good morning. When he began walking toward the front desk, nearing her, Abigail looked down at her screen so she wouldn’t stare. Then, when she saw him sit down in her peripheral vision, she hazarded a glance and took in his appearance. 

_Exotic_ was a great word to describe Hannibal Lecter. His suit looked like it cost a good chunk of Abigail’s tuition, and he moved with such grace and purpose that he didn’t seem real. He was older, around what she expected from the accolades listed on his faculty profile, with prominent cheekbones and calm, almost amused eyes. This silk tie of a man was the perfect foil to Mr. Graham’s earthy, approachable self. 

Mr. Graham returned to the desk up front, and Abigail then heard Dr. Lecter speak to him.

“Let us begin, Will. Would you please turn off the front lights and shut the door?”

It was a simple request, but for some reason, it made Abigail smile. She couldn’t quite discern the accent, but she already loved his voice. He spoke like he moved: elegantly and with purpose, and the polite way in which he addressed Mr. Graham made Abigail already like him. 

She really liked Dr. Lecter.

The class went on as one would expect from a first day. Lecter went over the syllabus and the students’ expectations for the semester, as well as a short introduction to their first unit. The entire time, Abigail took notes and allowed herself to soak up his voice, but she kept getting distracted by his appearance. His apparel was pristine; she found herself wondering if this would be the standard for the rest of the year or if this was simply for their first day, to give an impression. His mannerisms told her the former. In addition to being absolutely enchanted by this deity, Abigail couldn't help but feel his gaze on her more often than not. He was a wonderful speaker, making eye contact with his audience to maintain a level of charisma, but it almost seemed as if she caught his glance each time she looked up from her screen, and each time, it made her shiver.

When he finished the presentation and dismissed the class, the students in the gallery packed up their things and began to trickle out, giving passing goodbyes to Dr. Lecter as they did so. Once Abigail had put her things away and slung her backpack over her shoulders, Margot turned to her and spoke. “Would you want to meet me at the Union for lunch? I can show you the best places.”

Abigail’s face lit up. “Yeah. That would be great. How about 12:30?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Margot gave Abigail one last smile before walking out the door, where she was immediately scooped up by some suave, wild-haired man in glasses who escorted her away with a hand on her waist. _Weird boyfriend,_ Abigail thought to herself. 

As she walked out, she passed by Dr. Lecter as he was cleaning the white board and gave him a sweet “thank you, Doctor” as a courtesy. 

“Of course, Abigail,” he responded with a nod of his head.

She didn’t realize he had used her name until she was halfway to her next class.

Will swirled the cognac in his glass and breathed it in before taking a sip. “The name seems familiar. Remind me where I’ve heard it?” He sat down on the sofa in their home office and gave the other man an inquisitive look. 

Hannibal stood from his desk, sleek tablet in hand, and sat next to Will. He pulled up the news article and handed it to him. “ _The Minnesota Shrike,_ they called him. A reference both to his cannibalistic tendencies and the nature in which he would mount his victims.” He took a sip of his own cognac. “ _Hobbs_ became a name to be feared here.”

“Pretty bold of Abigail to stay in state for school,” Will remarked with a raise of his brows as he read the grotesque descriptions of human bone in furniture and long hair stuffed in pillows.

“Precisely what piqued my interest.”

Will handed the tablet back. “She was twelve when Garrett Jacob Hobbs killed himself and her mom. Old enough to understand but not young enough for it to be forgotten by now.”

Hannibal gave Will a look that was full of sympathy. “She will need counsel, Will.”

Will studied Hannibal’s expression, his own hard and deep in thought. “What are you proposing, Hannibal?”

Hannibal only leaned forward and placed a chaste, loving kiss on Will’s forehead before standing up and striding out of the office with his tablet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know how I'm doing! is there anything you'd like to see develop between certain characters?
> 
> Ciao and thank you for reading!  
> -Niedle


	3. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail has lunch with Margot and meets her twin brother, who has an exciting proposition for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mason makes an appearance in this chapter, thus the "implied incest" tag. I kept it short since the next chapter is going to be longer.

Abigail hummed happily as she took a bite of her pizza, and Margot chuckled with a nod. “I thought you would like Topio’s.” She picked at her own meal—a grilled salmon salad that she’d brought from home—and looked around the dining area as if expecting someone. 

Abigail swallowed, and her brow twitched. “I was going to ask you about that, actually. You speak like an upperclassman, but you’re in my freshman psych class. How come?”

Margot’s attention returned to her companion. “Oh. I’ve changed my major a few times.” She took a sip from her thermos. “I settled on psychology out of...necessity, I suppose. My family is not what you would call _normal_.”

Abigail’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. “I totally understand. I’m, uh...I’m an orphan.” She hoped she didn’t overshare, but from her perception of Margot, she seemed like someone who had an appreciation for genuine people. 

“I am, too,” Margot replied. “As of...quite recently. It’s just me and my twin brother now. Our father’s will demanded he finish business classes, though, so we still have another year until he officially takes over the company.”

The way Margot talked so casually about her parents’ death made Abigail a bit sad for her. They must not have been close. She decided to aim the conversation in a different direction. “What business is your family in-?”

“Margot, Margot, Margot...” The same wild-haired man Abigail had seen in the hallway appeared suddenly, wrapping an arm around Margot’s shoulders as he sat with them at their table. “You sneak away from me for a few hours, and already you found yourself a new girlfriend!” He turned to Abigail and gave her a smile as if they were sharing a joke at Margot’s expense. 

Margot let out an exasperated sigh. “Abigail, this is my brother, Mason. Mason, this is-”

“Abigail!” Mason began to unpack his lunch, and let out a little laugh that scrunched up his nose as he picked up his fork and knife. 

Abigail let out a nervous little laugh and gave him a crooked smile. “H-Hi.”

“My sister picks up the most interesting little trinkets from the gutters, doesn’t she?” He snorted and began to pick through his salad. “Have you invited her to our little _Friday soiree_ yet, Margot?”

“No. I didn’t think she would want to go to a dirty frat party hosted by you and all your creepy friends.”

“It won’t be as bad as last year, Margot. Besides, it’ll be a big party. More mainstream. Something there for everyone, even uptight little princesses like you.”  
Margot made eye contact with Abigail, who was watching the exchange with mounting confusion. 

“Maybe we should ask Abby what _she_ thinks,” Mason suggested before turning his attention to Abigail.

Abigail had seen frat parties in movies. Drinking and loud music wasn’t really her scene, but the fact that she had made friends with these interesting, evidently influential figures gave her a reason to go along with their plans. Even if Mason seemed like a pretty weird guy, it could be good for her to meet some of his frat brothers and make connections with upperclassmen. “Um...yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun actually.”

Margot closed her eyes and let out a sigh through her nose. “Well, if Abigail will go, I suppose I’ll be there with her.”

“Excellent!” Mason let out another laugh. It seemed everything was humorous to him. “Margot will give you the details.”

“Awesome,” Abigail replied, trying to mask her anxiety.

Friday morning before class, Abigail had gotten to the lecture hall early and sat down in her usual place as she’d done every day since the first. For the first time, however, Dr. Lecter was already sitting at the desk up front with Mr. Graham. They both seemed to be wrapped up in paper grading. Abigail opened her Chromebook and logged in, then turned her attention to Margot when she sat down next to her. 

“Good morning,” Abigail greeted. 

Margot gave her a smile before taking out her phone and opening her text app to message her something. “I’m sending you the address of the party tonight.” She sent the message, and Abigail heard her phone vibrate in her pocket. “And by the way, you don’t have to go just because Mason wants you to.”

Abigail shook her head. “No, I want to go. It seriously sounds like fun. And like you said, Mason made it more mainstream this year.”

“My exact wording was _less fucked,_ but yeah. I’ve overheard pretty non-adventurous people making plans to go. I’m just saying…”  
“I know, but trust me. I’m actually really excited.”

Margot seemed to believe her and gave her a nod. “Alright. We can meet outside Frontier at nine.”

"You have the fraternity name and address?"

"Yes," Will replied as he buttoned up his jacket. 

"Good." Hannibal stepped in front of him and took his hand, placing the car keys in the other's palm. "You'll want to linger unseen, since the students know you. Try and spot her early. Know what she's wearing, how she acts around her peers." He ran his fingers over Will's skin briefly, a lingering touch filled with intimacy. "...We are her guardians now, Will," he said, voice low and solemn.

"I know." Will's stormy gray eyes fixed on Hannibal's gaze, and he gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I won't let anything happen to her, Hannibal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and tell me how I'm doing! Anything you guys would want to see happen at the party?
> 
> Ciao and thank you for reading!  
> -Niedle.


End file.
